The Tragic Tale of Teddy Woven novel Chapter 6

The road dipped downwards, and I could see the outline of a bridge in the distance that stretched across an unbidden stream. I watched it stream downwards, jutting down the sleek brown rocks to descend from a small waterfall. The scenery was so calm, it was a pity Teddy could not feel the same way.

His car soon drove over a stony bridge, so I quickly rolled down the window to hear the water gushing downstream. Teddy pulled over to the side of the road and turned down his music so that I could truly hear the falls. It was a kind gesture, something I greatly appreciated, but I could not find the words to express it aloud. I sat perfectly still, listening attentively to the water, and once I felt satisfied, I turned a gaze to him. “Thank you, Teddy.”

“I will have to take you down there sometime. There are some trails you can follow, they lead naturally to the ocean.”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t have time for that.”

He arched up his right eyebrow in question. The car was put into drive, and then he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal to set his vehicle in motion.

The soft keys of the piano soon filled the air after the stereo’s volume was turned up more. Teddy kept his gaze focused on the road, following the pathway that wound left and right to take us to the low valley where a small village was situated. I glanced at the tiny houses, the modesty of the surrounding that lacked the grandeur that Teddy possessed. His car slowed down once we entered the natural traffic of the village, and without anything picturesque to look at, it felt right to start a conversation with the man beside me. “Do you come down here often?”

“To buy groceries,” he relayed with disinterest.

“Nothing else?”

“No, not really.” He stopped the car at a roundabout, waiting for his turn to enter traffic. “I see nothing of interest here.”

“Do you ever go into the shops?” I inquired. “The restaurants?”

“No, never.”

“Don’t you meet your friends down here?”

His voice was incredibly low as he answered: “No, I don’t.”

“Then they meet you up the hill? At your place?”

“I don’t really have friends,” he surmised. “Not anymore.”

“Oh?”

“You are shocked by it,” he observed. The brake pedal was pressed downwards to allow his car to slowly ease into traffic. “I thought you would be the only one to understand.”

“Why?”

“Just a thought,” he relayed softly. “Intuition.”

“I don’t have a lot of friends,” I acknowledged. “But I have one or two I can rely on. A person needs that, you know. Someone to talk to on the phone. To go out and spend some with them. Life can’t always revolve around work.”

“What would you like for lunch tomorrow?” he asked at random. “I was thinking salmon. Would that agree with you?”